The WAAAGH! of Zero
by Writer Nightpen
Summary: A failure of a mage whose spell always blew up. A green-skinned familiar with a guitarized weapon. Honestly, what can go wrong? (cover image from 1d4chan)
1. Chapter 1

DISCLAIMER:

All trademarked items in this fanfiction is owned by their respected copyright holders (Warhammer 40k is Game Workshop's, Familiar of Zero is Noboru Yamaguchi's). The ones which are owned by me are merely the plot and the author's thoughts. This fanfiction is made solely for entertainment purposes and not intended for any material gain.

Thoughts are in italic.

* * *

_**The Waaaagh of Zero**_

_A Familiar of Zero/Warhammer 40k crossover_

* * *

Rokk Stabraeka grunted. He laid his weapon, Da Gittax, on the crude table provided by the workshop. He ran his meaty fingers on it lovingly, tracing the chips and grooves on the weapon. While promising blood and violence on every swing, the chain-axe seems to be intended for something else.

"'Ey der Rokk. 'Ere to tweak on Gittax 'gain?" another Ork asked as he entered the room. The newcomer is almost as big as Rokk himself, if clad in more metal bits than Rokk. A few bandoliers and utility belt jingled at the newcomer's person.

"Yeah, Big Mek Roddlejamma. Got dis dere hunch," Rokk replied, reaching for a slightly-bent screwdriver from a nearby toolbox. "Dat Da Gittax can be tweaked t'be betta still."

"Eeh. Ya been wochin' doze 'umie disks 'gain?" Roddlejamma said, taking a good look on Gittax from his position across Rokk. "Dis 'ere screw, needs t' be bigger."

"Yeah, you're right," Rokk professed as he accepted some bigger screws handed by Roddlejamma. "Mite need stronger stringies tho."

"Eh, ye'll get ye want da next raid," Roddlejamma said as he took the contraption and strummed the thick strings, all six of them. Satisfied with the pitch, Rokk nodded approvingly.

A Nob of the Blood Axez Clan, Rokk has always been something of an oddity. While most Nobs are content to leave most everything to their Boyz and support crew in pursuit of some semblance of disciplining the horde, Rokk prefers to maintain his personal wargear alone. Since his retinue is a rather small one, nobody really objected. As a result, Rokk has some semblance of mechanical knowledge.

"Boss! Boss!" a small gretchin barged into the warehouse suddenly.

"Shaddup ya lil' grot!" Roddlejamma shot a withering glare to the gretchin. "Big boyz be workin' 'ere!"

"No Boss! Iz da 'umies!" the gretchin replied. "Sum patrol boyz saw 'em near 'ere!"

"Well, time to get Rokkin'," Rokk said, hefting Da Gittax to his shoulder. "Ready da bikes, Big Mek. We gonna rokk it good."

"Aye, Boss! WAAAAAAGH!" Roddlejamma replied.

"WAAAAAAAAGH!"

* * *

…

* * *

"Miss Louise Francoise de la Valliere, please step forth before the summoning circle."

Louise steeled herself. The time has come for her to prove that she is a mage, just like everyone else. Her bloodline, the Valliere, has been one of the most illustrious in the Kingdom of Tristain; such weight tolerate no failure. Such is the Rule of Iron.

"My name is Louise Françoise le Blanc de la Vallière. Pentagon of the five elemental power, heed my plea and bring forth my familiar!" the young mage intoned. For a second, hope welled inside her as she felt her magic circuits pulse with power. With this, she could stand in the crowd of mages! With this, maybe she won't be such a failure in her mother's eyes! With this…

A loud bang ensued, kicking up a sizable amount of dust cloud. Some students, who are nearer to the summoning circle, coughed from inhaling some of dust. Some of the people have started to snigger, belittling Louise for her inability of casting spells.

"As expected from the Zero!" one boy jeered.

"She just can't do any magic!" one girl stage-whispered to the other, between giggles.

"And she had the gall to stage a parlor trick like this…" another girl murmured.

Louise just stood there, finally convinced that she's a total failure.

However, between the demeaning remarks and slight wind, something remains. In the middle of the dust cloud, something stood.

"WAAAAAAAAAAGH!"

The shout seemed to rattle not only the teeth of those who listened it, but also the ground. The cloud of dust and soot from the explosive summoning Louise has done was instantly swept away, revealing a green-skinned muscular figure standing in the middle of the summoning circle. It stood more than six and a half feet albeit hunched, holding what seemed to be a mishmash of metal and blades in the shape of a guitar merged with a giant axe. Blood and assorted bits of body parts stained the equally-mismatched metal armor thicker than an average knight's.

"An orc! Louise summoned an orc!" a student jeered after a bout of stunned silence. A repectable feat of his own, considering all of them has been stunned silly just a moment ago.

"Heresy! This is heresy!" a female student 'helpfully' pointed out.

"The hell-" a dark-skinned redhead muttered, drawing her wand back in preparation of a spell.

"Wait," a short blue-haired girl beside her said in a flat tone. "Binding Rituals. Stand back."

"WOT DA ZOG IS DIS!?" The green-skinned summoned being bellowed, hefting his weapon high while facing the nearest boy behind him. The bald lecturer supervising the whole thing readied his spell. "LIL' 'UMIES LININ' TA GET KRUMPED?!"

"HEY YOU!" Louise shouted, trying desperately to divert the attention of the seven-feet mountain of green-skinned muscle to her. "YEAH YOU, YOU DUMB ORC! I'M THE ONE WHO GOT YOU HERE!"

"NOBODY TAKES ROKK FROM 'IS BATTLEFIELD! PUNY 'UMIE WILL BE KRUMPED!" the orc bellowed, axe coming down with great force to Louise's head. "WAAAAAGH!"

In that split-second, something welled inside Louise's chest. It burns like liquid fire expanding in her meager torso. It welled up into her throat, yearning to be released. So release it Louise did.

_**"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!"**_

Scant centimeters from her forehead, the grisly weapon stopped. Everyone held their breath, save for Louise, whose ragged breath of fatigue only contradicted by her defiant stare.

"…Boss…" the orc murmured, yellow eyes meeting pink.

"DAMN RIGHT I'M YOUR BOSS!" Louise bellowed, not wanting to lose her momentum. "NOW KNEEL DOWN SO I CAN BIND YOU!"

"Yes Boss!" the orc immediately complied, dropping to his knees.

"…Will this be enough, professor Colbert?" Louise said, panting a little.

"Y-yes! Please bind this beast quickly, before it rampages!" the bald professor said, his readied fireball still hovering on the tip of his staff.

"Pentagon of the Five Elemental Powers, grant your blessings upon this creature and bind it as my familiar!" Louise bellowed, touching her wand to the orc's forehead. Well, maybe not so much 'touching' as 'whacking'. With a small flash, runes inscribed itself on the orc's left hand, a row of eight black runes standing out against the green of his skin like a tattoo.

"W-well… this concludes it, then," the teacher reluctantly conceded as he sketched the runes for documentation, with great haste. "With this, the Springtime Familiar Summoning Ritual is done! Tomorrow you all will have a free day to get to know your familiars better! Class is dismissed!"

With the other students marching out of the field, some with greater haste than others, fatigue finally caught up with Louise. She fell down to the ground, panting heavily like a horse exposed to desert heat.

"Boss? Ya okay?" the orc said, looming over Louise in concern.

"I'm okay… well, not that okay," Louise squeaked out. For all her earlier bluster, she is just a girl with children stamina. All the events has more or less drained her out, Rule of Iron or not. "Familiar, I command you to carry me to my room."

"Aight, Boss," the ork dutifully said, putting the exhausted girl on his shoulder. A few moments passed in silence, as Louise realized that they have yet to move. "Urrr… which way, Boss?"

"Thought so…" Louise grunted tiredly. Fortunately, out of the corner of her eye, she spots a maid approaching nervously, perhaps to clean the courtyard.

"Maid!" Louise exclaimed. The maid promptly approaches.

"Y-yes milady?" the short-haired maid said, somewhat intimidated by the mountain of muscle.

"Guide my familiar to my room, and then wash my clothes after I rest," Louise commanded.

"Yes milady. R-right this way, Mr. Familiar…" the maid said.

* * *

…

* * *

"There you go…" the short-haired maid said, tucking Louise in after taking care of her soiled clothes. The pink-haired noble fell asleep halfway through the journey. Her tasks mostly done, she hauled the laundry basket and exited the spacious room.

"You done, 'umie?" the familiar asked as the maid stepped outside the door.

"Yes," the maid amicably said, shutting the door. "Um… can I ask you a question, Mr. Familiar?"

"Urm… sure, I guess?" the familiar replied.

"How does an orc live?" the maid asked, setting down the laundry basket. "I… I heard your people rape, burn, pillage, and eat babies…"

"Urr… wot's babies? Wot's rape?" the familiar replied, tilting its head in clear confusion. "I dunno stuff like dat. 'E'd just go eat squigs, drink grog, an' krump sum otha boyz. Mebbe loot sum bitz while we're at it."

"Eh?" the maid managed to say in surprise. "Well… do you want to get some food? You look like you're hungry…"

"Yea! Takes a full stomach to run a Waaagh," the orc said, his tone happy.

"Well then, follow me," the maid said, lifting up the laundry basket. "I'm sure chef Marteau will have some leftovers you can eat."

"Aight!" the orc enthusiastically replied.

* * *

…

* * *

_Far o'er da misty mount'ns cold,_

_Da holes o' deep, caves zoggen old,_

_Must pack n' go, ere break o' day,_

_To get da bitz 'e long fergot_

Louise drifted to wakefulness as she heard strummed strings resonating in her room. _Oh yeah, orc familiar…_ she whispered to herself. _Though I distinctly remembered that orcs are hunter-gatherers at best, menacing mad pillagers at worst… never artisans, much less humanly-passable performers like this… I wonder if he's some sort of nobility…_

"Boss! Ya okay?" the orc asked as he stopped playing his instrument, turning to the waking girl.

"I'm okay, familiar. Just a little weak," Louise said while propping himself to the headboard. A quick gaze outside reveals to the girl that night has fallen, and moonlight lit the room. "What's that song earlier? Is it the song of your tribe?"

"Zat? Naah, no' really… tend t' sing nonsense wen I'm muckin' n' quiet-like, Boss," the orc answered, putting down his instrument.

"I… see," Louise said in a low tone. "Do you have somewhere to go back to?"

"Da boyz I left 'ere prolly joined 'nuvva warband, or krumpin' za ottha boyz wit' Roddlejamma," the orc said. "But eh, dere will be boyz joinin' ya soon, Boss. Always da case."

"Eh? You mean…" Louise said, her face losing a little bit of color.

"E'll gather sum boyz an' make a warband, den go WAAAGH an' krump evryone 'round! Dat's da right n' proppa Orky way!" the orc happily said.

"No! There's no war going on around here!" Louise bellowed. "You will not gather a war-anything until I say so! Boss' orders!"

"Urr… well, so 'e ar' jus' gunna muck 'round, Boss?" the orc asked, tilting his head in confusion.

"Well… this is probably going to be hard to explain to you barbarian…" Louise groused, hand massaging her temples. "Listen. I need to be better at magic so I can be a bigger boss than I am now. I'm currently in a low rank because I can only make things explode."

"Eeh? But ya got da WAAAGH down pat, Boss! Ain't nuffin is stronger!" the orc argued.

"Well… sometimes it's more than shouting at the top of your lungs," Louise said in a low tone, before pointing to a stack of hay on the corner of the room. "Anyway, I'm going to get some rest. You can sleep at that haystack tonight… see if I can get you a cot next time."

"Aight Boss," the orc said.

"Oh, and familiar… do you have a name?" Louise said as she made herself comfortable again. "I don't feel like calling you 'familiar' forever, you know."

"Rokk Stabraeka, Boss," the orc said.

"Alright, Rokk…" Louise said. "…um, can you sing that song again? I like hearing it… just don't get too loud."

"No prob, Boss," Rokk replied, hefting his instrument once more.

_Mount'n burnin' under da moon_

_Ain't gunna blabber, 'e'll be dere soon_

_O'er boyz a WAAAGH zat krumpin' on_

_N' all who got us will know the WAAAGH_

That night, Louise dreamed. She dreamed of standing on a plain slicked with blood. She dreamed of the deafening din of battle, of roaring behemoths of steel, of shrieking weapon wet by blood. She dreamed of walking beside green-skinned metal-clad soldiers. That night, she dreamed of the WAAAGH.

And it was glorious.

_Sum Boss 'e nevar fergot_

_Othar boyz we nevar stoppn'_

_Ain't seen the last 'o us yet_

'_E'll fight as long as 'e live_

_All eyes on za zoggin' Eye_

_Keep shootas n' choppas on_

'_E'll WAAAGH on za crashin' storm_

'_Til' 'e got za bitz 'e long-fergot_

* * *

_**A/N:** _

Well, that's it then, the first fic where Louise summoned an Ork. One armed with a guitar-ified chain-axe =)) Also, as far as the crossovers go, amongst the WH40k races only the Tau is left. I don't think I get the lore accurate enough, but hey. Orks are made for rokkin =)) Expect some canon butchery from both sides, slow updates, Orkified songs, and other stuff. Reviews for the Review God! Favs for the Favvy Throne!


	2. Chapter 2

DISCLAIMER:

All trademarked items in this fanfiction is owned by their respected copyright holders (Warhammer 40k is Game Workshop's, Familiar of Zero is Noboru Yamaguchi's). The ones which are owned by me are merely the plot and the author's thoughts. This fanfiction is made solely for entertainment purposes and not intended for any material gain.

Thoughts are in _italic_. Particularly punctuated shouts is rendered in **_bold-italic_**.

* * *

_**The Waaaagh! of Zero**_

_A Familiar of Zero/Warhammer 40k crossover_

* * *

"Nnnh~" Louise mumbled as she stretched her arms and got up from her bed. The sun has just barely a palm high from the horizon, her perfect time to wake up. Breakfast was not due until at least two more hours, giving ample time for preparing oneself. Getting up, Louise's eyes stared at a big lump of green sprawled on the (undestandably rather flattened now) stack of hay she had brought in a few days ago.

"A familiar huh…" The pink-haired girl grunted as she walked to the dresser, noting that for an orc that size Rokk was snoring rather softly. "I wonder if I should get him a set of manservants' clothes… it's not like he needs to be in armor everyday…"

A few silent moments passed as Louise changed into a set of fresh clothes. Checking at her black cloak one last time, she smiled to the mirror as she dabbed a few drops of perfume to her clothes. _Perfect! Now to get Rokk to wake up... I hope this works…_ Louise thought, sighing as she gathered her breath.

"WAAAAAAAGH!"

"WAAAGH!" Rokk quickly woke and jumped to his feet. "Ready, Boss!"

"…Somehow it works…" Louise muttered under her breath before speaking normally. "How was your sleep?"

"Good, Boss!" Rokk replied. "Who will 'e krump t'day?"

"Aaah…" Louise said, palming her face. "No… krumping, today. We will get to know each other, and hopefully it won't involve 'krumping' anyone."

"Eeeh… so 'e're jus' gunna muck 'round today huh…" Rokk said, dejected. "Well, can't go krumpin' wi'out Meks an' Grots an' uttha Boyz, s'ppose."

"Yes… whatever that will mean," the noble girl grumbled as a knock interrupted their discourse. Louise quickly went to the door, unlocking it.

"Good morning, Milady, Mr. Familiar," the maid from yesterday said, entering with a stack of fresh laundry on her hand. "Shall I put these in the dresser for you?"

"Please do," Louise said. "I rarely saw you around the dorms often, maid… where did you work, usually?"

"Oh, I'm most frequently in charge of serving food and things around the kitchen and courtyard, but Mr. Familiar made a… huge impression…" the maid said while arranging the fresh clothes inside the dresser. "A majority of the female maids were rather… unnerved…"

"What did you do while I was sleeping, Rokk?" Louise quickly said, leveling an accusing gaze.

"Nuffin'? I jus' ate…" the familiar replied, expression puzzled.

"Oh, no! Mr. Familiar behaved rather well… aside of his appetite and eating habits," the maid said, defending Rokk. "It's just that many of the staff, female ones in particular, had been hearing grim news from the frontier… the cruelty of orcs are quite notorious out there. Some of them… are even first-hand witnesses."

"Oh, I see…" Louise said. "Well, why aren't you affected by the prejudice… um, what's your name?"

"It's Siesta, Milady," the maid said. "Well, Mr. Familiar seems to be rather obedient, so I think it's safe… maybe?"

"I see… I'll contact the staff manager to handle the things for me. I can't have my familiar causing too much panic or reluctance on the staff," Louise said as Siesta finished setting up the fresh clothes. "And you shouldn't be concerned with his obedience with me around."

"Ain't gunna hurt Boss or Boss' Boyz, no no!" Rokk added.

"Very well, Milady," Siesta replied.

"Alright, let's head to…" Louise said, before stopping at the sight of Rokk gearing up. "Rokk, leave your weapons and armor here. We're not krumping people."

"Aww," Rokk whined, something Siesta saw fit to giggle on.

"I won't be in danger, Rokk. The Boss of this whole place assures it," Louise asserted. "Now get out of that ramshackle armor."

"Aight…" Rokk answered, his misgivings slaked for now.

"Let's go then. Siesta, can you get a seamstress to make a set of manservant's clothes for my familiar?" Louise said as they exited the room. "It doesn't have to fit him perfectly, just to give something new to him. That scrap he calls pants looks ready to give way anytime."

"Very well, Milady. I'll ask for an estimate from her, and I think she'll be done in five days to a week," Siesta replied.

* * *

…

* * *

"This is the door to the Alviss Dining Hall," Louise said as the party of three arrived at a big, ornate double doors. "Only commoner help can set foot in here, so this is as far as you go. Follow Siesta to the field, where you will be fed. I'll meet you after my breakfast is done. Behave yourself."

"Aight Boss," the familiar said, nodding.

"Right this way, Mr. Familiar," Siesta said as she directed the green-skinned familiar to a hallway. Through a winding path through the halls of the school, they walked in relative silence, until Siesta decided to break the ice again.

"Do you have any food you like to eat, Mr. Familiar?" Siesta asked as they exited to the open sky of the courtyards.

"I don' get ta choose las' nite, but I'd krump sum boyz for a hunk o' squig pie!" the ork said.

"… Um, I don't think we had that kind of food, Mr. Familiar," Siesta said, her face sheepish. "We have prepared a wide range of foods for familiars though. I suppose you can choose by yourself… right this way."

"Aww… aight, I aint eatin' picky," Rokk conceded as Siesta led him to a separate feeding area reserved for carnivores.

"Well, here we are, Mr. Familiar, the meat-eaters feeding area. I figure that you will like meat based on your sharp fangs," the maid said, gesturing to the open area where some larger familiars can be seen eating. "You can choose your food from that pile. If you'd like that food again every day, you can tell me about it."

"Aight… um, Sesta wozzit," Rokk said.

"Um, it's Siesta. Si-es-ta," Siesta said, correcting the pronunciation.

"See-eys-ta. Gottit," Rokk replied.

"Good. Well then, I'll be taking care of my other jobs now. Please behave yourself, okay?" Siesta said as she bade the green-skinned familiar goodbye.

"Aight then…" the ork ambled to the pile of assorted meats provided by the kitchen. Scanning around, Rokk quickly spied a big, freshly butchered juicy-looking cow hindquarter. The problem is, there's a large winged lizard across the field, eyeing the same piece of prime meat.

…

The Alviss Dining Hall was about halfway full with students, a fact that Louise mildly disliked. As much as the institution being Tristain's premier school of education, the formation of cliques are inevitable. Being the least gifted among them, Louise was almost universally shunned from almost all of the cliques. That doesn't mean that she had no friends at all, however. Making her way through quieted whispers, Louise made her way to a rather out-of-the-way corner of the hall where a blue-haired girl already sat, reading quietly.

"Morning, Tabitha," the pinkette greeted briskly.

"Valliere," the blue-haired petite replied, nodding in acknowledgement. "Congratulations."

"About yesterday?" Louise asked.

"Yes. Peculiar familiar," Tabitha said, her eyes betraying a small spike of curiosity.

"You bet… it's by sheer dumb luck I managed to prevent it being fried by the professor… probably for the worse…" Louise groused. "Where's that loud black bimbo? I'm guessing she'd sleep in."

"Louise~! I'm so pleased that you're worrying about your neighbor~!" the aforementioned person suddenly cooed from behind Louise, her breath blowing on Louise's ear.

"There," Tabitha said, her eyes going back to the book.

"Get off me, you freak!" Louise shot back, trying to distance herself from the tanned redhead by moving a seat to the left. "I'm just making small talk! Not concerned with you!"

"Keep on denying, dearie… I'm well aware of my beauty causing fair maidens to transcend social mores~" the tanned redhead said, taking a seat beside where Louise had sat. "Mayhaps this time around I can convince a bloodline Valliere to our loving embrace!"

"Keep on dreaming, Zerbst," Louise grunted.

"Also, congratulations on getting that hunk of familiar meat," Kirche replied. "Lend him to me sometimes~"

"Oh, and I'm sure to get the Romalian Inquisition to execute your whole family for the sins of promiscuity and bestiality," Louise said with a tinge of satisfaction. "Maybe we can get that as grounds to eradicate your wretched blood from Halkeginia."

"Such grand words~" Kirche shot back. "I'd like to see you try, Louise~"

"Enough," Tabita said in a flat tone. "Food."

Needless to say, the two vitriolic maidens complied and settled down as food is served.

…

The intense staredown between Rokk and the big scaly thing lasted for quite a while now. The other familiars wisely scampered out of the way, seeing that the two are obviously either the biggest and most muscle-laden organisms around. Seeing that most of the other familiars has vacated the area, the two would-be belligerents started to approach each other in circling steps.

"Oi ya blue squighawk, sod off," Rokk bellowed a challenge to his adversary. "Dat meat's mine!"

The blue dragon returned the challenge with a hearty roar. Head held up high, pride swelling its chest, the blue dragon refused to back down.

"RRWWRAAAAAAAAAARRG!"

"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!"

And so, both of them charged. Having the advantage of reach, the dragon opened the attack with a sweeping tail slap, which hits home and sent Rokk tumbling. The tumbling ork then hit a nearby tree, shaking it and causing dry leaves to rain on him.

"No' bad! No' bad at all!" Rokk shouted, grinning as he redoubled his effort to get the meat. Charging to where the dragon stood, Rokk jumped at the last moment and hit the dragon's head with a dropkick. The dragon recoiled in pain, having caught by surprise.

"RRRRRWRAAAAAAAAAAAAA!" the blue dragon roared fiercely as it charged, trying to bowl over the (comparatively) small green bipedal creature. The charge connected, but Rokk was not bowled over or sent flying; instead, the plucky green creature managed to get a hold on the dragon's back-swept horn.

"Gotcha now, ya git!" Rokk bellowed, holding on for his dear life on one of the dragon's horn while putting in a few hits of his own in. The dragon, reeling from the hits, continue to thrash and struggle in an effort to dislodge Rokk.

"Verdandi! Verdan-… oh what is that horrendous commo-…" a blond boy said, only for his words to be cut short by a flying chain of sausages nearly hitting his head with great force. The titanic struggle between Rokk and the blue dragon had made a mess of the feeding ground, with food items either trampled or thrown aside with extreme prejudice (except the disputed piece of beef, obviously). A few maids can be seen either taking cover behind the trees, or trying to approach the commotion armed with pot lids as makeshift shields as what Siesta was doing.

"You, maid!" the blond mage commanded from behind a brass tower shield he just conjured. A wise move, since a split-second later a particularly large bone bounced from the shield, denting it slightly. "Do you know who are the owners of these unruly familiars?"

"They're the familiars of Miss Valliere and Miss Tabitha, milord!" Siesta answered.

"Go get them! I'll see if I can subdue them with my golems," the blond mage said, waving his wand to conjure eight brass golems.

"Yes, milord!" Siesta said, running while abandoning the battlefield.

"Right…" the blond mage said after conjuring a contingent of golems, before shouting with a magically-enhanced voice. "YOU! YES, YOU TWO UNRULY FAMILIARS! I, GUICHE DE GRAMONT, THIRD SCION OF THE HOUSE GRAMONT, COMMAND YOU TO STOP YOUR BICKERING! CEASE YOUR STRUGGLES, OR BE SUBDUED BY MY GOLEMS!"

Evidently, the shout was enough to garner the attention of the quarreling parties, as the struggle momentarily ceased.

…

Things were going reasonably well. Food was good, the company was amiable, and Kirche was shouldering the burden of lighting up the conversation. That, however, only lasted until both Tabitha and Louise suddenly halted all movement around the supposed end of the breakfast time for some reason.

"Oh, thank The Founder!" Siesta said, finding the two meagerly-endowed girls conveniently seating in front of each other, panting from exertion. "I-it's terrible! Your familiars are fighting, Milady Valliere, Milady Tabitha!"

"What!?" Louise shot up from her seat.

"Show us," Tabitha said as she closed her book and stood up, her features betraying a sliver of concern.

"One of the students is trying to subdue them with golems, milady, but I doubt he could hold them for long! Their fight must be seen to be believed!" Siesta said, trying to normalized her breath.

"Oooh~? Now this I must see," Kirche said, getting up from her own seat.

"Well then, what are we waiting for!?" Louise impatiently exclaimed, raring to go.

…

Over at the feeding area, the overall chaos momentarily stopped as the two belligerents eyed the source of the shout. A puny human with a large shield was standing there, backed by a contingent of eight people decked in suit of armor and hefting pikes.

"Wot da zog wazzat for…?" Rokk grunted, a fact that the dragon seemed to agree on. The blue lizard grunted disapprovingly, catching Rokk's attention. Their eyes momentarily met, a spark of agreement dawning between them.

"RWRAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!"

"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!"

"Wait wha-" Guiche blinked in confusion as the two roars paved their way to a joint charge. The sudden charge obviously took the young mage by surprise, and two of his golems are dispatched swiftly as a result of his lack of command.

"Nice killy stikk, 'umie!" Rokk shouted, commandeering the ten-feet pike belonging to the armor golem he just dispatched. "Oy squighawk! Most kills get da meat!"

The dragon roared in aggreement, as it carelessly swatted the remains of its devastating charge aside.

"O-oi…" Guiche said, clearly not taking his golems being made into betting matter well. "All of you, squads of three, flank them and attack!"

The remaining six golems obeyed the command, and soon attacked their master's adversaries in squads three each. They quickly circled the enemies, trying to gain advantage with their numbers and the reach afforded by their pikes.

"Oo, no' bad… but no' good 'enuff!" Rokk said aloud. "Cuz' imma feelin' killy t'day! WAAAAGH!"

"RRRWRAAAAAAAAAARG!" the dragon shouted as it acknowledged the three golems trying to flank it. Quickly, the big lizard initiated a circular tail-swipe, tripping all three golem. The successful swipe was quickly followed by the dragon pouncing on one of the downed golems, rending the metal construct swiftly with the dragon's own powerful claws.

"Hahaha! Bu' I down'd mine arready!" Rokk bellowed, having shaken off the remains the foe he waylaid just now. The metal golem defeated by the green-skinned guy is no more than a hunk of scrap metal, having been pierced repeatedly with the business end of the pike and then beaten savagely with the blunt end. The runes on his left hand seemed to glow a sickly green. "Dang, dis pointy stikk's so killy!"

"RRWRAAAAAARG!" the dragon let out an approving roar, as it charged to a golem and bull-rushed it to the other golem, before crushing them both to a big tree nearby. Meanwhile, Rokk bisected his two remaining golem assailant in the middle of the torso with the sheer power of his swing alone, although it destroyed the spear in the process. Running out of enemies to beat, the two belligerents turned to the unbelieving, quivering Guiche.

"Fi'st wun t' krump dat 'umie wins?" Rokk proposed, twirling the remains of his bronze pike with a decidedly un-orc-like finesse. The dragon nodded in assent.

"Wai- wha- aaaaaaaahhh!" Guiche managed to muster out as he witnessed two ferocious beasts charging to his position before falling flat on his behind, clutching the shield for dear life, bracing for impact.

"_**WAAAAAAAAAAGH!**_"

An impact that, thankfully, never came. In its stead, a loud bang sounded, its shockwave nearly flattening Guiche under the shield. However, that was not all.

"_**SYL. PHEED.**_"

Guiche could have sworn he felt some parts of his manhood retreating even deeper into his body. _Such malevolent coldness! No wonder she commanded ice-based spell with such ruthless efficiency_, the young man thought as he peeked out from beside his door-sized shield and saw the master of the blue dragon.

"YOU ADDLE-BRAINED, MUSCLE-SKULLED, DUMB FAMILIAR!" the indignant Louise shouted angrily as she stomped to her familiar, whose body was laying almost unconscious near the middle of the field. "I TRUSTED YOU NOT TO MAKE ANY PROBLEMS TODAY, AND LOOK WHAT YOU DID?! YOU JUUUUST HAVE TO PICK A FIGHT THE BIGGEST, MEANEST DRAGON AROUND, HUH!?"

"Uh… Boss?" Rokk woozily replied, having righted himself somewhat. "Ain't me fault…"

"NOT YOUR FAULT YOU SAID? AFTER PROPERTY DAMAGE THAT WILL PROBABLY COST ME SEVERAL HUNDRED ECUS TO REIMBURSE?" Louise continued her rant. Not far beside them, Tabitha was also in process of disciplining her own unruly familiar. "HOW WOULD YOU EXPLAIN THE WASTED FOOD? THE DENTED AND NEARLY-TOPPLED TREES? EIGHT SMALL PILES OF BRONZE SCRAPS? HUH? HUH?!"

"Ain't gunna happ'n 'gain, Boss," Rokk said, struggling to stand. One of his thick legs is bent at an unnatural angle, caused by either Louise's explosion or the subsequent landing.

"YOU BETTER DAMN WELL NOT, BECAUSE I WON'T HESITATE BLAST YOU TO PASTE THE NEXT TIME AROUND!" the pink-haired mage shot back. "Now apologize to Tabitha!"

"Aight Boss…" Rokk said, before tilting his head in confusion. "Wait… wut's a-pow-log-ice?"

"Aaah…" Louise palmed her face in exasperation. "It means make peace! Offer non-aggression! Cease hostilities! Now go!"

Reluctantly, Rokk limped his way to where the blue-haired girl stood. Apparently, the blue dragon had been instructed to do the same by Tabitha, because it too slinked to the opposite direction of where Rokk is walking. The two creatures met halfway through the distance, and stopped. They sized its counterpart for a brief moment, before Rokk offered an outstretched fist.

"Ya one hell o' a squighawk," the ork said. "I'd be glad t'have ya on me warband."

"Kkyuuui!" the dragon returned the praise, bumping the outstretched fist with its own forepaw.

Louise's facepalm could have gone right through her head by now, while Kirche chuckled not far behind.

* * *

…

* * *

Deep in the forest of Germania-Gallia border, an orc shaman dreamed. He dreamed of a tide of green, crashing against bastions of humanity. He dreamed of glorious battles, of abundant food for the young, of weapons more sturdy than they can ever hope to field. He dreamed of a prophet wielding a giant axe, leading from the forefront, pushing them past the limits a tribe can attain. His dreams are punctuated by a glorious din, a glorious exclamation of war. His dream was loud with the word WAAAGH.

And it was glorious.

* * *

A/N: I'm really grateful of the support I received from you guys, and the fact that you people thought I didn't do too badly on the writing greatly enhances the speed I'm writing. Here's your second chapter, where Sylpheed and Rokk duke it out and became buddies in place of a total Rokk vs Guiche fight (I admit, I personally think Guiche won't last twenty seconds against a Gandalfr-enhanced choppa-wielding Rokk). To facilitate that, I decided to make Sylpheed rather older and more animalistic; I consulted Draconomicon greatly, and I decided that Sylpheed is probably a larger than average blue-skinned good-aligned white dragon with some bronze/copper shapeshifting SLA thrown into the mix. She won't do the shapeshifting stuff until much later though, if ever. Until then, and enjoy!


	3. Chapter 3

DISCLAIMER:

All trademarked items in this fanfiction is owned by their respected copyright holders (Warhammer 40k is Game Workshop's, Familiar of Zero is Noboru Yamaguchi's). The ones which are owned by me are merely the plot and the author's thoughts. This fanfiction is made solely for entertainment purposes and not intended for any material gain.

Thoughts and whispers are in italic.

* * *

_**The Waaaagh of Zero**_

_A Familiar of Zero/Warhammer 40k crossover_

* * *

Fouquet of The Crumbling Dirt, semi-legendary burglar and erstwhile covert operative, has hit an impasse. She has been going undercover for close to six months now, enduring all the mischievous perversion and innuendo the headmaster leveled on her for nothing. She suspects that it's his fetish or something, since she knew wizards can use magic to retain their sexual potency for a long time.

But now, Fouquet must find a way to break into the school's treasure vault. It was the second most secure vault besides the Royal Treasury Vault of Tristain, of which not even the location is known. It certainly arouses one's suspicion on why a school, even touted as the best in all Halkeginia, has such a secure storage. His contacts all pointed out that it houses a treasure in high demand in the black market, a staff known as the Staff of Destruction. There was a standing reward worth a king's ransom for the staff, of which Fouquet simply can't just pass up.

Fouquet was fairly sure that she could use subterfuge to sneak into the vault at first, but the headmaster's loins turned out to be locked far tighter than an average Romalian canoness. She had tried all the seduction tricks on her book or otherwise, but no dice. Legwork revealed an even more deterring fact about the vault, since it is enchanted by at least a square-class earth mage; The burglar suspected it was done by a circle of three or more. She had thought she hit pay dirt when one of the faculty member blabbed while drunk that the vault can be broken open with physical force, but after some secret number-crunching she found out the force needed to do that far exceeds what her golem can dish out. She had thought to procure some explosives, but using a load on the wall or roof is sure to attract attention from at least five miles around.

Finally, Fouquet stumbled into an unexpected solution to her problem. On a hunch, she checked the ground around the vault and found out that while it concealed a fairly hard bedrock underneath, were not as heavily enchanted as the walls and roof. Some number-crunching later, the would-be vault breaker found out that she can destroy it with much less explosives. Thus, she hatched an audacious plan.

After all, Fouquet of The Crumbling Dirt has a reputation to nurture and uphold.

* * *

…

* * *

"Nggrrrhh…" Louise groaned as wakefulness claimed her. It has been all but ten days, but living with such a hair-trigger-tempered familiar is a tough one. Between the mishaps of her magic, the lectures on those mishaps and her familiar's antics, and general facepalming as the result of aforementioned familiar's stupidity in all things not pertaining 'krumping', the pink-haired mage had learned the hard way that having a strong familiar does not really equate to respect. This is more pronounced because Louise's magic only progressed a modest amount; the only progress she had made was that she can now unleash her explosions with the phrase 'WAAAGH'. While single-phrase spells has a great battlefield application (as noted by Mr. Colbert and, strangely enough, Tabitha), Louise has not felt that her achievement to be worthwhile.

Today, however, was the day of Void. Louise had nothing planned, so she idly toyed with the idea of properly outfitting Rokk with military-grade equipment. _I have a battle-oriented familiar, why not properly equip him?_ Louise reasoned, although her more pragmatic side also points out that it could attract unwanted attention.

"WAAAGH!" Louise shouted after she put on a fresh change of clothes. Crude as it is, Louise also found out that this is just about the only effective way to wake her familiar up. She had tried less intrusive ways to wake Rokk up, but most of the time they either fail or got the familiar in a rather foul mood.

"WAAAGH!" Rokk replied, jolting awake. "Ready boss!"

"Rokk, how long have you used your armor?" Louise idly asked, donning her capelet.

"Dis 'eavy armor?" Rokk said, glancing to his ramshackle armor propped up on an armor stand in a corner of the room. "Dunno, few seas'ns methinks."

"Would you like a new armor? I suppose I can personally afford a mundane half-plate or an enchanted banded mail for you," Louise said, turning a chair to face the standing ork.

"As long as it worked, Boss," Rokk said, looking at his Boss. "Tho I'd rath'r make me own gear. 'M no Mek but 'least I kno' how t' make som stuff."

"Interesting…" Louise noted. "I suppose a noble-orc like you should be able to excel in the face of other orcs in some way…"

"Naah, 'm no' like most Nobs," Rokk replied. "Nobs don' uswally do Mek bizness. Dey krump unruly boyz, or led 'em t' krump za uvva boyz."

"So basically your tribes are in constant civil warfare…" Louise said, more to herself. "Interesting… Sister Eleonore would certainly want more info on that…"

Suddenly, a knock was heard on Louise's door.

"Who's that?" Louise asked in an annoyed tone.

"Oh Louii~se~" the unmistakable sing-song voice of Kirche made Louise's eyebrows twitch. "Open up~"

Groaning, Louise motioned for Rokk to open the door. True enough, Kirche and Tabitha stood outside the treshold. Kirche looked positively bursting with energy while Tabitha looked slightly more sullen, shielding herself behind an open book.

"Louise, deearest of all my frieeeends~ let's go shopping!" Kirche said, exuberance that would seem childish practically radiating from her.

"No," Louise replied matter-of-factly. "And stop pulling us on your misadventures. I bet you took Tabitha against her will."

"Aw, such a grumpy kitten," Kirche cooed. "What can I say, though my equestrian skill is top-notch, I need a suitably comfortable ride~"

"Sylpheed unwilling," Tabitha said, not glancing away from her book. "Unless I direct."

"So yeah, go with Tabitha and have fun," Louise groaned.

"Aww… but I need you, Louise~ shopping is much less fun without you~" Kirche cooed, now employing the fabled 'Germanian Shepherd Puppy Eyes' technique.

"And can Sylpheed even bear the weight of four of us?" the pinkette said, pointing to the ork staring at them nearby. "I can't afford to leave Rokk here. You know full well what he can do, especially when bored."

"…You have a point. I have no idea that someone would dumb enough to consider _roasting_ a _fire_ salamander of all things…" the tanned redhead mused. "So, can your dragon do it?"

"Negative. Four people, medium load," Tabitha said, somehow sounding slightly annoyed. "Can't fly at medium load. At most, three."

"You and Louise are both worth half a normal person, she'll do fine!" the Germanian insisted. "Aw Louise come ooon~"

"Safety first," Tabitha countered.

"Mm… if that's the case, maybe you two should take the horses anyway," the Germanian finally conceded. "I'll lend you my horse for today!"

"Well… thanks, I guess?" Louise sighed. "Do you know how to ride a horse, Rokk?"

"Wat's a horse?" Rokk replied, head tilted to the side.

Louise's hand met her forehead as Kirche chuckled.

…

"So many 'umies," Rokk commented as the duet walked through the thoroughfare of Tristainia, the capital city of Tristain. He and Louise attracted many stares, primarily due to the fact that an orc is walking the streets of a capital city. While orc traders aren't exactly an endangered species, they usually ply their trade in border towns. Thus, an orc sighted in the capital is almost always a prisoner, with very few being a dominated thrall of eccentric backwater nobility occasionally seen on royal business in the capital.

"No krumping," Louise hissed from the shoulder of the seven-and-a-half foot tall Rokk. She had arrived at the town later than Kirche's party, but they had promised to meet at a tavern afterwards. "And avoid narrow lanes. There are lots of thieves here."

"Like dem lootaz huh…" Rokk mused. "W' used t' hav som at base. Bloody zoggin' gits, but I'd be danged if I ever go krumpin' wio' them."

"Eh… I suppose," Louise said in an off-hand tone. "Ah, there's Peyman's. Our shop is beside that, the one with a sword sign."

"So e're gunna get som dakka?" Rokk said, positively ecstatic in tone.

"Dakka? What in the name of The Founder is that, even…" Louise groaned as they approached the shop. "It's an arms and armors dealer. I heard that a few prominent nobles outfitted their guards with weapons and armors purchased from this shop."

"So e's like a Mek," Rokk said as Louise motioned him to stop and then hopped down. "Only makin' choppas n' stuff."

"Sure, whatever your people's term on that…" Louise said, beckoning the green giant to enter the shop behind her.

"Greetings, esteemed customer, how may I help you today-…" the shop-keeper said, professional enthusiasm evident in his tone before surprise took him. "Whoa, whoa! What's a filthy orc doing here?"

"He's a thrall. Don't worry, he has a good obedience," Louise said. "I'm looking for weapons and armor for him."

"I see, I see…" The shopkeeper replied, his tone now somewhat less wary. "An outfit for him, eh… how about this silvervein iron battle-axe? These were among the last alviss-forged arms to come out of the Morian forges after their native mines run dry a decade ago."

"It certainly looks the part…" Louise said, examining the fairly large axe.

"Meh, no' killy 'nuff," Rokk said, peering at the blade from beside Louise. "Look like one o' dose Flash Git choppas, shiney but no' choppy 'nuff."

"What do orcs knew about fine weaponry, pray tell…" the shopkeeper snorted derisively. "A buyer bought one of these for a dragon-slaying mission a month ago, and he came back victorious just last week or so!"

"Wh-… you mean the recently-appointed Warden of The Rangers, Duke Fraunclein de Peyne, used one of these weapons?" Louise exclaimed, a gleam in her eyes. "Then it must be of a very high quality!"

"Correct! Nobles and warriors everywhere are coveting his master-crafted axe!" the shop-keeper said, reeling Louise in. "This axe is of the very same batch!"

"How much for it?" Louise finally asked.

"Seven thousand ecu, Milady," the shopkeeper said, smiling broadly.

"That's… enough money to buy a nobility title! Preposterous!" Louise exclaimed.

"This is a masterwork weapon, Milady… and still enchantable," the shopkeeper said. "There aren't many axes of this kind is left since their makers retreated even deeper underground."

"What you don't know is that enchantable weapons are usually rather useless when not enchanted," A fourth voiced opined. "Besides, you can mount just one enchanting gem into that axe, which is rather inadequate if you compare it with elven or real alviss weapons."

"Whozzat?" the orc asked, puzzled by the disembodied voice.

"Derflinger!" The shopkeeper said aloud, seemingly adressing neither Louise nor Rokk. "I'm trying to make a living here!"

"Ooh? A thrall? Rather eloquent, too…" the disembodied voice wondered verbally, ignoring the shopkeeper. "Your parents must have spent quite an amount on him, girl."

"Wuh… wha- show yourself!" Louise exclaimed, blushing to her ears. "How dare you all mock a noble!"

"Here here, in the bin near the door," the voice said, prompting Rokk and Louise to turn to the direction of the voice. "Yeah, the sword with moving hilt."

"Talkin'… choppa?" Rokk wondered.

"Yeah yeah, I am a sentient talking weapon ya big lug. I bet ya don't even have the finesse to wield me…" the talking sword called Derflinger said, a section of its guard acting as lips to punctuate its words. Rust has tarnished some sections of the edge, while the leather section of the hilt was showing signs of decay."Unless… hey big fella, pull me out of here."

Slightly confused, Rokk pulled out the three-and-a-half feet blade. The rune on the back of his left hand glowed sickly green, prompting a smile on the ork's face. After a few tentative swings, Rokk's grin widened as he twirled the blade around his body in another display of un-orc-like finesse. The display seemed to last a fair amount of time, but it was quickly over much to the relief of Louise and the shopkeeper.

"Whoa, whoa, WHOA!" Derflinger said after being twirled around. "Yer big muscle's a real something, huh? That natural strength aided with the dexterity boost from yer binding runes, plus this exotic musculature… daaamn, boy! I'd almost say that you're a homunculus if it's not for yer brutal cunning…"

"Zoggen ded killy!" Rokk said, grinning in satisfaction. "Dis choppa 'ere Boss, tis' a good killy one!"

"Hear yer thrall, lady noble! Buy me and I will make your servant the toughest orc… nay, the strongest warrior in all Halkeginia!" Derflinger added.

"M-milady… is that orc by any chance…" the shopkeeper groggily asked. "An orc blade-master or something…?"

"Probably… you should've seen his giant fragging axe…" Louise answered, rather pale. "How much for that rusted sword?"

"For you… 500 ecu. Plus scabbard and lifetime supply of whetstone and sword oil," the shopkeeper mentioned, his hand still shaking a little.

"Two hundred," Louise haggled. "It has rusted all over, I have to get an earth mage to reverse the process."

"The underlying structure is still sound, it's just surface rust. Three hundred and fifty," the shopkeeper pressed. "And a scabbard plus a year's worth of whetstone and sword oil."

"Two hundred, ditch the whetstone and sword oil if you like…" Louise said, trying to keep the price down. "I'm ridding you of a blade constantly belittling your profession here!"

"Two hundred and fifty, plus scabbard and half a year whetstone and oil," the shopkeeper pressed.

"Deal," Louise agreed, seeking to close the deal before her elated familiar can supplement his laughter with slaughter. Gingerly, she counted the electrum coins on the shopkeeper's table with a look that seemed to begrudge every coin spent.

"Here's your scabbard and supplies," the shopkeeper said after confirming the amount of coins to be right, putting the scabbard and bag of supplies on the table. "May The Founder be with you, Lady…?"

"Valliere. Louise Francoise le Blanc de la Valliere," Louise said as Rokk strapped the scabbard to his belt and shouldered the comparatively-small bag. "Thank you for the business, goodsir."

…

"So you finally bought him a sword?" Kirche said, eyeing the eating ork and the sword propped on a chair at their table. The redhead has been surprised when Derflinger first talked to the two girls, but the novelty quickly wore off.

"Yeah," Louise replied rather nonchalantly. "It looked like a good idea at the time. Plus the weapon is quite cheap."

"I'd be surprised if someone sells it like, at all," the tanned Germanian said, waving her fork towards Louise. "Crafting a true sentient sword is one in a million chance at best. The only other one that I can think of was the legendary Wind Rapier Aria, but that blade was lost in the Orc Siege of Stahlgrad, more than two thousand years ago."

"Another sentient blade you said?" Derflinger said with an interested tone. "Suffice to say I never met one in my travels."

"Really talks," Tabitha remarked, looking intently at Derflinger as it was propped against a chair. "Most interesting."

"Well, I guess the likelihood of you two meeting is very low…" Kirche said. "Otherwise, it would've been recorded well."

"Verily," Derflinger replied. A short silence reigned as the group contemplated on what to do next.

"Well anyway, we should get back to the academy before the night curfew," Louise said, sipping her tea while glancing at Rokk finishing his honey-roasted whole wild boar. "Also, before my budget gets shot to hell. Oh and Tabitha, can I ride with you and Sylpheed?"

"Understood," Tabitha said, nodding.

"Suits me and Jutland well, I guess. Where did you leave her?" Kirche said, dusting her behind as she stood up.

"The stable at the east garrison," Louise replied as she got up to pay for the expenses.

* * *

…

* * *

The trip home was rather uneventful. The huge dragon soared lazily in the night air, making its way to the academy in a good pace. Atop it, two people sat in relative comfort while the third, a big green orc, was sleeping while clutching whatever leverage he can.

All seemed rather typical, at least until Tabitha spots something in the distance.

"Golem sighted… approximately forty feet high, adjacent to school main tower. Hostile," the blue-haired petite intoned with a sense of urgency.

"Wh-what? Oh Founder, you're right!" Louise said, squinting so she can get a better look as Tabitha mentally commanded Sylpheed to speed up towards the school. "It can't be, nobody would dare mount such a blatant attack on Tristainian soil!"

"Wake the orc. Surprise attack," Tabitha replied as Sylpheed starts to circle the school complex. The giant golem's attack seemed to have gone unnoticed despite the huge commotion, as there was no staff on hand to fight it.

"WAAAGH!" Louise screamed, prompting Rokk to wake up.

"WAAAGH! Ready, boss!" Rokk replied, pausing for a second as he saw the golem. "…Wot da zog is zat?!"

"Something we'll be krumping," Louise said. "Tabitha, can we swing by the dormitory to get Rokk to suit up?"

"No time. Already armed," Tabitha replied.

"Aww yeaah! Can't wait to try da new choppa!" Rokk replied, manic grin spreading on his lips as he drew Derflinger from its scabbard.

"Does someone need me?" Derflinger piped up, before also pausing as it saw the golem. "…whoa, we're fighting that?!"

"Hang on," Tabitha said as she commanded Sylpheed to climb. At a certain height from the golem, the dragon banked and began a steep dive, prompting a scared whimper from Louise. "Orc, prepare for drop."

"C'mere, ya big stompa!" Rokk shouted as he leaped off right to the golem, Derflinger raised high over his head. "WAAAAAAAAGH!"

* * *

**A/N**: Here you are, your fix of Tristainian WAAAAGH. Sadly, this chapter is a bit of a slow one plus having a bad cliffhanger, but rest assured that your dose of stompin' and krumpin' will be delivered next chapter. Until then!


	4. Chapter 4

DISCLAIMER:

All trademarked items in this fanfiction is owned by their respected copyright holders (Warhammer 40k is Game Workshop's, Familiar of Zero is Noboru Yamaguchi's). The ones which are owned by me are merely the plot and the author's thoughts. This fanfiction is made solely for entertainment purposes and not intended for any material gain.

Thoughts and whispers are in italic. Bold-italic is for emphasis.

* * *

_**The Waaaagh of Zero**_

_A Familiar of Zero/Warhammer 40k crossover_

* * *

Fouquet grinned as she climbed up from the hole on the floor of the academy's vault. The walls are taking a great pounding from her golem outside, but otherwise shows no appreciable strain. She would have liked to decode the spell used in reinforcing the wall and sell it to the highest bidder, but time of the essence.

Her plan was quite sophisticated, if Fouquet can say so herself. First, she made a tunnel leading to the underside of the vault, capitalizing on the fact that the creators thought that nobody would be able (or sane enough) to tunnel through bedrock to get to the vault. After that, she dug a series of tunnels around the foundation of the vault and lined it with fire-stones, awaiting detonation. After all has been set, she raised a golem to pound the outer wall of the vault as a distraction while she gets into the vault via one of the tunnels. Of course, as a contingency plan she had spiked the water supply with a powerful time-delayed sedative and put the bottle on a random maid's person, but nobody would fall to such a sharp-tasting and discernible drug, right?

With the help of her familiar and her great power as an earth mage, Fouquet managed to do all this without notice. Now that she's actually in the vault, all she has to do is grab the Staff of Destruction and double back before detonating the rest of the fire-stones, covering her tracks. Only one problem remains: the client has been quite tight-lipped about the particular item, and so Fouquest was not given any hint of the actual shape of the staff. Now facing a wall full of mounted and unlabeled staffs, Fouquet was at a loss on what to carry off. _Definitely not that cumbersome-looking tube on the pedestal_, she thought as she scanned around the treasure vault.

"Well, we can always start with that thing outside our reach," Fouquet said to her constrictor familiar, beckoning it to retrieve a staff on the top of the wall-rack amidst the pounding on it.

* * *

…

* * *

The effect of the downward chop was devastating. The golem ended up with a deep gash on its torso, one that would certainly bisected it if it possessed less bulk than it is. Pausing momentarily as dirt and rock rearranged to repair the damage, the giant golem slowly turned its body towards the newfound menace.

"Whoa, partner…" Derflinger said as they put some distance, avoiding the sufficiently threatened golem lashing out on them. "That could've put some nasty chip on my edge. Have ye a little decency to use me on the thinner joints, mayhaps?"

"Wozzat?" Rokk shouted, avoiding a rocky extension functioning as the golem's fist seeking to grind the (comparatively) puny green musclehead to paste.

"Hit the knee!" Derflinger replied, shouting to match its wielder. Rokk nodded, and with a great cry rushed in, evading the fists. The mindless golem tried to squash the ork with his fists, but failed. Getting into range for a pounce, Rokk leaped up and gave an almighty slash, knocking a big chunk of soil and rock approximately corresponding to the knee of the golem loose. With a great rumble, the golem staggered as its left leg lost about a foot of height.

"RRWRAAAAAAARG!"

While the golem paused to rearrange its body to working order again, a mighty roar signaled that Sylpheed is joining the fight. With great force, the dragon somewhat smaller compared to the golem crashed to the automaton and threw it off its feet, its body of dirt and rocks thrown off to the reinforced wall of the treasure vault. The wall shuddered, but it held fast.

* * *

…

* * *

As Fouquet prepared to get off with two staffs on each hand and one on each armpits, the pounding on the wall abruptly stopped. The still, musty air briefly lend an ominous atmosphere to the moment as Fouquet realized that something is amiss. _Someone must have done enough damage to be able to divert the golem from its task of pounding the outer wall_, the lady thief thought.

"Well then, we best shuffle…" Fouquet muttered as she re-entered the hole where she came from. "Pythia, gobble up whatever small treasure you can gather for twenty seconds and then double back to the entrance. I'll detonate the cave system after a minute."

The constrictor snake gave a subtle nod, and Fouquet quickly resumed making her way through the tunnel system. Then, a sudden loud crash made Fouquet stop for a moment, before hustling once more, treasures in hand.

* * *

…

* * *

"How was it? Is it dead yet?" Louise said, approaching the scene of battle from behind Rokk with Tabitha. Across a small stretch of field before the party, the forty-foot golem lay motionless propped against the treasury wall. It seemed to be mostly intact, at least until Tabitha conjured a lengthy storm of icicles that utterly decimated the stone construct.

"Checking pulse," the blue-haired petite said. "None."

"O-… okay…" Louise said, inching a little further from Tabitha. "A-anyway, should we check if the side of the castle is okay? The golem seemed to be intending to demolish it…"

"Good idea," Tabitha said, looking to the just-landed Sylpheed. "Sylphid, search damage on outer wall."

"Kkyuui?" Sylpheed replied, head tilted to the side.

"Large cracks on wall," Tabitha said, the tone of her voice slightly annoyed. "Find."

"Kyui!" the dragon complied, ambling closer to the mound of stones and dirt left from the golem.

"Familiar, assist Sylpheed," Louise said to Rokk.

"On it, Boss," the ork complied, jogging over to where Sylpheed was.

"So… who could have been behind this?" Louise asked Tabitha as the bluenette used her magic to conjure a ball of light to illuminate the surroundings better. Before Tabitha could say anything however, the ground was shook by an explosion.

* * *

…

* * *

"Well here we are, Jutland," Kirche said as she neared the school complex from the gate usually used as the entrance of supply carts from the city. Kirche liked to use this entrance when she's on horseback since it's nearer to the stables where Jutland is kept. A small floating ball of flame illuminating her way, Kirche was mildly surprised when she smelled a sharp, burnt smell as she neared the kitchen.

"Well well… someone seemed to have left the stove to dry, old boy," Kirche said, patting her steed as she guided the horse to the stables. "Let's get you safely in the stables first… Founder be blessed…"

Quickly, the fire mage hopped down from her horse and found an unconscious stable-hand. Around her, a few other mundane workers slept in various poses, as if they're struck by some sort of sleeping malady. Kirche tied her horse to a nearby stand, before getting to a downed stablehand.

"Hey, you, wake up!" Kirche exclaimed while shaking the young man. Getting no reaction, Kirche quickly made a smoldering mass of embers at the tip of her wand. "Geh, no reaction at all huh… this is going to sting a little."

"Waaaah! Damnit, it hurts!" the stablehand exclaimed as Kirche's smoldering embers touched the palm of his hand. "Ah… uh, what happened?"

"You fell asleep at a weird place," Kirche answered the bewildered young man's question. "It seems that someone slipped drugs into the water. Are you well enough to warn the others?"

"I-… I think so, milady," the stablehand said after groggily shaking his head a few times.

"Good. Wake all other servants you can find, I think splashing their face with water will do. I'll head to the kitchen and make sure nothing catches fire," Kirche said, lighting a few torches nearby before casting a spell that caused the tip of her wand to glow with the same intensity of a torch.

"Yes milady!" the stable-hand replied before setting out to wake his fellow servants.

Kirche quickly hustled to the kitchen, finding many on-duty servants to be sleeping at various places while smells of burnt cooking choked the air. Judging from the various degrees of burning in the stoves, the unfortunate servants had just finished with supper, and they were cooking their own meal or heating left-overs. Kirche acted quickly, dousing any open flames she could find and putting away easily-burned materials away from hot pans cooling down. Before the Germanian mage could rouse some of the cooking staff however, someone slammed the other door leading to the kitchen open. Kirche quickly brought her wand to bear, pointing a readied fireball on its tip to the newcomer.

"Whoa whoa whoa, back up!" the other party exclaimed, sounding as surprised as Kirche. "Zerbst? Is that you?"

"…Montmorency? Thank The Founder, I was hoping someone could explain all these staffs falling unconscious left and right…" Kirche said, letting her destructive spell die down harmlessly. "But first, let's wake these people up!"

"I'm guessing someone poisoned the water supply with an advanced poison…" the blond-haired girl Kirche called Montmorency said, creating a small spray of cold water from the tip of her wand to wake one of the chefs. "The Alviss Dining Hall was in chaos. The stone alviss are helping out there it seems"

"That's plausible, but why are you not affected?" the Germanian girl said, restoring wakefulness to a maid.

"I take mithridatum weekly, it reduces the effect of harmful drugs and poisons," Montmorency said, revitalizing another chef. "We Montmorencys do that once we're of age since we have quite a few enemies from our former homeland."

"I see…" Kirche muttered.

The question went unanswered as a strong tremor knocked everyone down, waking the rest of the kitchen crew via a harsh hit to the floor.

* * *

…

* * *

Tabitha looked on in horror as the whole vault structure rumbled and caved in while Sylpheed and Rokk was inspecting it. The illumination spell fizzed harmlessly as she expended all of her willpower not to sink to her knees, although it doesn't stop her book from falling uselessly to the side. The collapsed vault took a good chunk of building from the central tower, but the tower stood still, seemingly unharmed.

"Tabitha, snap out of it!" Louise shouted, coming to her comrade's side. "We need to get help! This is way beyond our ability!"

"R-right," Tabitha said, regaining composure from the ordeal. "Old Osmond."

"Let's go!" Louise said, taking the blue-haired girl's hand as she ran towards the headmaster's office. Tabitha followed the pink-haired girl a step behind her, for once without a book on her hands.

It doesn't take them long to find the old teacher, as his office was not far from the scene of destruction. Panting hard from exertion, Louise threw her body towards the door, too hasty and weary to open it the mundane way. Thankfully, the oaken door offered little resistance as the owner of the office opened it just before collision, providing a rather soft spot for Louise to collide on.

"Ohoh?" the headmaster chuckled as he caught Louise in a firm grip. "I was not expecting you to throw yourself upon me, young Miss Valliere."

"Th-th-the side of the tower, Old Osmond! It's gone! Collapsed! In rubbles!" Louise blabbered uncontrollably.

"Took our familiars with it," Tabitha concisely added. "Require assistance. Swiftly."

"Well well, it seemed like a major emergency. I was just piecing up how and why I feel so drowsy after dinner," the old mage said, mirth receding but not gone from his voice. "If you will show me which side of the tower that collapsed, young ladies?"

The trio quickly moved through the growing chaos and confusion that enveloped the castle. A crowd of confused and frightened students are wondering what on earth had happened, while the non-magical maids and caretakers are doing their best to restore some semblance of order. For Louise, the sight of the growing chaos overwhelmed her, being accustomed to peace and order; Tabitha on the other hand, kept her composure well.

"Old Osmond!" Colbert exclaimed, coming from an intersection. "Are you alright, sir? I was worried about the explosions..."

"Ah, I'm quite fine Colbert," the headmaster said. "I trust there were no damage in other parts of the school?"

"The kitchen is on fire. I was on the Tower of Fire when I saw the smoke," the teacher said.

"Well then, I trust you can organize the effort to extinguish it," Osmond replied. "Oh, and if you came across professors Chevreuse and Miterrand, tell them to find me. We may have a significant earth-related problem."

"Yes sir," Colbert said, his tone showing a strict discipline rare to his current vocation.

The teachers then parted ways, with Osmond following Louise and Tabitha while Colbert going towards the kitchen to help control the flames. After a few more minutes of hustling, they finally came to the scene of carnage. Osmond, having seen horrific war-torn lands and fields of slaughter, can't help to reminisce.

"Mother of Founder…" He mouthed out. "Someone… literally broke the vault…?"

"Vault?" Louise eloquently asked.

"Yes, Miss Valliere. That side of the tower was formerly the vault of our school… it contained magical items useful in our curriculae, as well as most of the things accumulated from my days of adventuring. I could say that it's well-guarded, but you can see the reality," the headmaster said, taking stock at the mound of rubbles from the collapsed vault and wall. "This is most distressing indeed… I could just raise the vault back up with my magic being an earth-aligned mage, but that might pose... severe complications. Well then, let me do this first."

With a huff, the old man raised his wand up high over his head, pointing to the night sky. In a heartbeat, a bright flare lit up the sky, unfolding into a form reminiscent of a flower. It dances in place for a few minutes, its beauty almost made Tabitha and Louise forgot the chaos and ordeals this night had brought.

"The… Royal Seal…" Louise whispered.

"Highly peculiar…" Tabitha noted.

"Well then, I think that's enough for a distress call," the headmaster said, his eyes twinkling in a good-natured way to help ease the students' nerves. "More help should arrive in the morning, but in the meantime, we have familiars to save, haven't we?"

"Y-yes!" the pink-haired petite said. "Tell us what we can do to help!"

"Very well. I'm glad that you two are eager to help," the old man said, glancing to the blue. "Now, I trust you can help me get rid of these rubbles with your wind magic, Miss Tabitha?"

"Only dot-level in Wind," Tabitha said. "Unable to lift large stones."

"That would be our work then, Miss Valliere," the old headmaster. "I trust that you have gained some semblance of control over your explosions?"

"Not much…" Louise said, mood suddenly sullen. "I only succeeded in keying the explosions to a phrase… what if I destroyed something important…?"

"Fret not, child. I will handle the more delicate breaking while Montsognir scouts inside the cracks for life-signs," Osmond said in a reassuring tone as Tabitha started to move a few smaller rubbles, piling them to the side. "Montsognir, old friend, will you do that for me?"

"But… even then… I might crush Sylpheed and Rokk by mistake!" Louise said, still unbelieving of her own abilities. While she does so, a white mice darted out of Osmond's voluminous sleeve and scurried into a crack in the rubbles.

"I'm here, Louise Francoise le Blanc de la Valliere, one of the best earth mage you can find. I know the structural layout of this particular building stone-by-stone. You will not fail this," Osmond said, resolute in his tone. "And by The Founder and my name, I shall not let all under my responsibility come to harm. Steel thy resolve, scion of the Valliere!"

"Y-yes!" Louise said, finally mustering the courage.

"This piece of wall," Tabitha said, pointing to a particularly large piece of masonry. "Need breaking up."

"Well, shall we do our job, miss Valliere? Don't worry, Montsognir can handle himself well. He's a little under ten feet down," Osmond replied. "On my mark, then."

"Y-yes!" Louise said, wand at the ready. "Ready when you are sir!"

"Focus the explosion on the ball of light," the headmaster said, conjuring a small orb of fire and putting it on the rough center of the large piece of rubble. "Now!"

"WAAAGH!"

…

It was dark, heavy, cramped, and Rokk was convinced that this is his end. He was looking for cracks on the wall beside Sylpheed when the ground suddenly caved in, bringing untold pounds of masonry, dirt, and rocks on top of the hapless familiars. It all happened so fast, that even Sylpheed was unable to leap out of the way.

_Mork and Gork be damned, this is not how an Ork boy should die_, the ork spat out in his mind, as his body is too weary just to make a noise. But what can he do? At the end of the day, boyz died. The WAAAGHs he fought in, all of them are enacted at a great cost of ork life.

"…aagh!"

Faintly, the ork heard the call. Orks has a different physiology compared to humans, but it runs on the same basic principles therefore hallucinations are still known to them. Rokk could have sworn that he saw a small white rodent skittering about not a few minutes ago…

"…aaAGH!"

Again, Rokk heard the call. The ork's whole body was pinned by rubble, and there's enough of them to stop his movement entirely. Derflinger was lost, but he might be around here somewhere. The ork was tired. So tired that he could just sleep…

"…aAAAGH!"

However weary, Rokk couldn't. His pride as an ork forbids it. What ork would sleep when the WAAAGH calls?

"…AAAAGH!"

Some circulation has returned to Rokk's limbs, although he can't fully feel it yet. That is good, since it seemed that someone was digging him out. _Someone with the knowledge of the WAAAGH_, Rokk noted inside, bringing a smile to his toothy face.

What more can an ork do but answer?

"_**WWAAAAAAAAAGH!"**_

* * *

A/N: Sorry for the length and natureof this chapter, when I promised much asskickings and WAAAGH in the last chapter. Well then, recovery work will commence next chapter, and rest assured that our villains shall be brought to justice. Until then, enjoy!


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